Chapter 28

© Copyright 2008 by Elizabeth Delayne

Rod leaned back in his pillows and stared at the blank T.V. screen. The needed files were spread out across his legs, but he was no further through any of the paperwork than he had been an hour ago.

Closing the folder, he slipped it into his briefcase and reached for a book, but ended up drawing his hand out empty. He was having a hard time concentrating on anything—what made him think he could read a business book? His mind was reeling over a conversation he and Joanna had never finished.

He knows you've hurt me very deeply before and he doesn't want me hurt again. I guess his intentions are good.

He could not forget the words, or stop them from swirling in his head. In the distant past they’d had their share of fights and arguments. Joanna had been extremely upset when she learned he was not going into church ministry. Yet, she admitted now, it had been because she’d believed he’d been betraying his grandfather, rebelling against the memory of Joshua Simpson.

In high school, there had been plenty of arguments. He would be the first to admit that he had taken pleasure in mocking her in student council meetings. She had returned her fair share, defensively, he realized now.

But what had he done to make Matt hate him so?

He knows you've hurt me very deeply before and he doesn't want me hurt again. I guess his intentions are good.

He had a feeling, an itch in his mind, a memory so unclear and undefined that it haunted him.

God, I need to remember. I believe You’re behind this gnawing inside of me. If I need to drop the subject or wait, please give me a peace—I can handle that—but if you desire for us to bring this . . . this memory out and to a halt now, then I need Your help. You know my heart better than anyone, Father. I love her. I want to take care of her. I want to ask her to marry me—soon. I don’t want this type of pain hovering over our relationship. I want to make it up to her no matter how much it hurts me to know. Help me to remember. Please, Father, give me some leads.

No immediate memories popped into Rod’s mind, but he did think of Steve Carson, one of his best friends during high school. Steve had liked Joanna as a friend and they had worked on several student council tasks together. He had religiously flirted with her, but never seriously.

And there had been a time when Steve had taken Joanna’s side completely—right at the end of their senior year. He looked at the clock. It was just after ten, not quite late enough that he couldn’t make a few phone calls.

* * *

Joanna hurried into the gym with a package of paper napkins. She tore at the plastic as she moved, music whirling around her.

Inside of the mountain of decoration and memorabilia that enveloped the gym in the school colors of red and gold, her high school class mixed and mingled. Maybe the animation was fake, maybe they were really having a good time. No one had bothered to tell her what they were really thinking.

There were a good number of people out on the dance floor. Someone had collected a list of favorite high school songs to play, songs full of memories. Images flashed through her own mind: cruising the strip with Bethany, or laying on Bethany’s white poster bed dreaming dreams and giggling over movie stars, or doing absolutely nothing, with the radio playing in the back ground.

Joanna skimmed the room with anxious eyes ... still no Rod.

She set the napkins on the table and looked at her charm bracelet, fingering the tiny symbols. She had prepared herself to handle the night alone, but she missed him, needed him. Less then ten people had asked about Bethany and on two occasions someone else had been around to tell the story. The other times she had voiced the words alone.

She sighed and turned to look at the memorabilia table with Bethany’s trinkets scattered through other odds and ends. She had gone through the box only when she had taken things out to decorate. Her emotions had been repressed at the time, holding off until she was alone at home with Rod’s teddy bear and her treasure chest in the darkness of her own bedroom.

Hovering around the tables, looking carefully after the catered food, volunteer and hired help, she tried to appear like she was enjoying herself. At some point in the night Melissa Graton would announce that there would not be a Royal Dance and explain the circumstances. They had neither King nor Queen.

“Jo have you seen Mark Winfloy?” A female voice asked from behind her. Joanna turned to the woman, an older version of the person she remembered—just like everyone else. Glenda, she thought, finally placing her name.

“Mark—umm, I think ...” she began turning to scan the crowd. She could barely remember what Mark looked like in high school. “He was with Rice—no, Fred Parker—a few minutes ago. I don’t see either one of them at the moment.”

“Oh well. He needed my business card for my law firm. He says his father-in-law has something of his, or something and wanted us to look into it. You know Mark ...”

The gym doors were open and a familiar figure was stepping through. Her heart leapt in anticipation and then joy, Glenda’s babbling fading away. Rod’s here! Rod ... her heart cried out as she watched him ... caught his eyes ... and joined his smile.

She turned to the woman—the near stranger and smiled. “You will excuse me, but it seems like my ship has come in after all.”

“Of course—your ship? Jo Berkley what are you talking about?”

Joanna barely refrained from running across the room to the man she loved. She need not have worried about what Glenda or any other person in the room thought. Their love and admiration for each other were written on their faces, in their smiles and in the way they greeted each other with a simple touch.

Bets placed ten years ago were suddenly rehashed as their classmates took notice.

“You’re here,” Joanna could not keep the breathless sound from her words. She reached out and gently touched the sleeve of his blazer with a tentative hand, relief spreading through when they connected. “You made it.”

“Yeah. I did.”

Joanna saw the weariness, the eyes, a little tired, wary, cheeks slightly pale. “Are you okay? You look—”

“Rodney Kirkland!” She stepped back in surprise at the voice and together they greeted the former boy, now man. Robert Clemmons—Joanna knew who it was even before she saw him. The class clown, always the easy going guy, and one of the essential members of their youth group. He was as short as ever, a little portly, but with the same winning smile.

Knowing Robert could keep Rod tired up for hours, Joanna started to step away, but Rod’s hand reached out and captured hers holding her securely next to him.

She met his smile. She could wait. They had the rest of their lives.

* * *

Much to Rod’s chagrin, Joanna somehow escaped, leaving him alone to maneuver through the revolving dialogues. Being a Vice President of a fortune 500 company made conversation easy. He was successful, and very happy, soon to be married, even if the bride hadn’t been asked yet.

Of course, he kept the marital bit of information to himself.

A few people asked, “What happened to that man who was going to become the great church minister that had chased dreams in high school?”

Rod only smiled and patted the left side of his chest. “He’s still here, I think,” he would reply. “Who knows, he might emerge again one day.”

Only two or three of those who asked were disappointed.

Rod spotted Joanna slipping out of the auditorium with a set of books someone had brought to donate to the school library. It was part of a school homecoming tradition. He excused himself from the conversation and followed her down the school halls, noting that while people changed, walls and lockers had not. The school had been smaller then, larger now with the two additions on either side.

Still, the lockers brought back memories of big textbooks and notes slipped through the slots.

He found her in a classroom, a brown and white wooden plaque with her name fixed to the door. He grinned. Coach Berkley. Math.

He wondered if he would have liked her as a high school kid. Maybe he would have had a crush on her.

Leaning against the door frame, he simply watched as she arranged the books in an open box. She was the woman he had waited for, the woman God had always intended for him. Truly, the past was in the past for them, and soon ... soon ... he would bring her officially into his future.

He looked around the room, noted the mathematic formulas scribbled in precise handwriting on the old green, but clean chalk board. Her walls were decorated in anti-drinking posters, baseball accents and a bulletin board of student newspaper clippings from the previous year underneath a sign that read ‘the tradition passes on.’ He’d almost forgotten she was starting back within the next two weeks.

Only when she looked up and met his eyes did he speak. “So, this is your classroom?”

She nodded, “Remind you of anything?”

“Takes me back ... I never would have put you in Mrs. Tonley’s room.”

“It’s the room where you courted Sarah Fairchild—or, should I say, one of the rooms where I watched you do it.”

“That’s right,” Rod remembered. The room was different now, the chairs turned toward the center instead of in straight rows. “It was you, me, Sarah and Steve on the side over there.”

“For the first half of the semester,” Joanna muttered dryly. “Until Steve and I were moved to different places in the room and you got to—”

Rod chuckled, “We had that fight.”

“A sparing match,” she corrected.

“In the middle of class,” he shook his head, “Mrs. Tonley was so mad.”

“I was jealous. I think I can admit it now,” she shrugged uneasily and sighed, looking at the far wall. She was not proud of the anger she’d held onto then. “When I first moved into this room two years ago, I sat in the desk over there and noticed that Sarah had written your name on the wall, really small with a heart around it. I wish now that I would have left it there ... just so you could see. She was looking for you, earlier.”

It took him a second to catch up with the shift, the time change. He stepped into the room, gauging her mood.

“She’s not a Fairchild anymore. Married with three kids,” he turned her around, thankful to see the twinkle in her eyes. She’d nearly had him on his knees, willing to beg her forgiveness for another time and place. The boy he’d been probably deserved it.

“I think I’ve been waiting all evening to get you like this.”

Joanna smiled, went right into his arms. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she reached up and touched his tired cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? You look tired and there’s something ... well, you just seem—”

“I know,” he assured her. “I’m a little edgy, and we need to talk, but ... well, my problem’s just that we need to talk, to spend some time together. We’ve been too far a part for most of our relationship—geographically, I mean.”

Joanna smiled and accepted his reasoning. Rod dropped a quick kiss on her lips. She pressed her head against his solid chest and rested. For several quiet moments they stood in each others arms and relished in the security that each other brought.

“Are you okay?” He asked finally, knowing that she was dealing with her past and some heavy pain.

“With Bethany?” Rod nodded. “I thought I was prepared, but I haven’t been. They ask so innocently and then they’re so stunned,” she laughed suddenly and looked up at him as if sharing a joke, but the humor did not reach her eyes. “I think if I could go back to high school, I’d beg Bethany not to have so many friends. She was better at making people like her than I was at making people angry at me.”

Pulling her back against him, Rod laughed gently and pressed his cheek down against the top of her head. “Joanna Berkley the tyrant—”

“Yeah and if I hear one more person refer to me as Joberk, I think I’ll ...” she shrugged and rubbed her cheek against Rod’s chest, breaking off her thought as she realized how good the feel of his arms felt around her. “You know, I think I’d give anything to get away from this place right now.”

Rod understood her feelings. They no longer fit in the high school setting. They were two different people, with different goals, outlooks and motives. They had grown and fallen in love with each other.

If there had been rules on the books, they had been trampled over.

“I guess we need to get back,” Joanna muttered.

“Not yet,” Rod told her, not loosening his grip. “Give me a few more minutes to hold you. Then ... maybe then I’ll let you go.”

Joanna did not complain.


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